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There was something so engaging about his laugh, but this time there was a hint that he didn’t entirely believe what I’d told him. After tossing back the rest of his wine, he managed to put the glass on the sand.
That’s when I noticed he’d placed his gun under the waistband of his trousers.
It was a stark reminder, a push for a reset that I no longer was certain I could do.
After all, I was alone on an island with a Russian monster, one with no intentions of letting me go.
CHAPTER9
Alexei
Anger.
While it remained with me, the night had been peaceful and without incident. Pulling off chunks of French bread, bites of cheese, and washing them down with delicious wine had been far more enjoyable than I could have imagined.
But spending time by the water’s edge, swinging in a hammock with a gorgeous woman was like a perfect storm on a calm evening. She’d evoked emotions that I hadn’t known existed. While the sadistic bastard remained just below the surface, every moment spent with her had allowed me to be a different man. Caring. Giving.
Caring about her could become a deadly problem.
I’d seen her face upon my return, the terror easy to catch even in the darkness. She had her own demons she was fighting and for a man like me, that raised another red flag. Perhaps I was being overcautious.
Sighing, I rubbed my tired eyes, wincing more from the lack of sleep than the early morning sun. I’d allowed her to remain asleep as the first light of morning crested over the horizon, the burnt umber colors slowly fading into the calm waters. At this point it wasn’t necessary to cause her undue concern. I rubbed my thumb across my lips, still able to taste her after our passionate kisses hours before. Even now, my cock was fully awake, the continuous need for her increasing.
A quiet laugh formed on my lips as I thought about our various conversations. I’d forbidden her to dig any deeper into my life, warning her of additional possible punishments. She’d given me that same contrary look that I’d gotten from minute one of meeting her, but she’d moved onto different subjects, still picking at my mind in an effort to find out what made me tick.
I’d carried her to bed after she’d fallen asleep in my arms, removing her clothes without her as much as opening her eyes. Then I’d spent most of the night by the open French doors, my weapon within reach. No one had dared encroach upon the premises. If they had, my reaction would have been immediate and possibly deadly. While I’d yet to hear anything from Kirill, I’d already formulated a plan in my mind of how to handle the situation if he was unsuccessful in determining the name of the assassin, one my father wouldn’t approve of.
He’d been reticent when I’d told him about Kirill’s warning, laughing it off as if there wasn’t an enemy alive who could effectively challenge our operations or use any member of the family as target practice. While that could be the case, I’d ordered the family’s head of security to make certain my sister was always guarded. Targeting her would destroy the family.
I turned my head, studying Stephanie, my balls tightening. No, I wasn’t finished with my exploration of her even after reminding myself that I’d all but buried that side of me, a practical choice made because of business.
Money.
Power.
Influence.
All three had become far more important.
Then what the hell was wrong with me now?
Satisfied that neither one of us were in danger, I returned to the bed, placing my weapon on the nightstand. As I peered down at her, the longing I’d felt the night before returned, exponentiated by having tasted her more than once. It would seem I’d become insatiable, incapable of separating my desires from the reality of my world. Well, as she had reminded me, we were in the islands.
After yanking off my shirt and trousers, I crawled into bed beside her, turning on my side in order to study her face and dazzling porcelain skin. While I’d seen pictures of her in her staunch suits and conservative heels, her hair pulled tightly behind her head, her beauty had still managed to escape the confines of the photographs. However, I preferred her this way, unfettered by the requirements of being a member of law enforcement. With her hair mussed, a light sheen of perspiration from the high humidity covering her skin, and lips the color of budding rose petals, she exuded an innocence lost.
What the hell would I know? I hadn’t been born into a virtuous family.
I carefully shifted hair that had fallen across her face, stroking her cheek with the tough pads of my fingertips. At this moment, I felt more peace than I had in years.
As she murmured in her sleep, she shifted closer, nuzzling against me. For the first few seconds, I stiffened. Then I pulled her tightly against me. There hadn’t been a single woman who’d been taken to my bed in New York. Not one.
The few times I’d lingered after a night of passion, I’d still never seen the rays of sunshine in the morning. That was too personal, something I’d never wanted. Being with Stephanie this way was entirely natural, more so than I wanted to admit to myself.
I allowed the sun to continue rising, trying to put what few pieces I knew regarding the possible assassination into some coherent picture. There wasn’t enough information to be able to make heads or tails of what was going on. My anger remained just under the surface. If I’d had my soldiers with me, I would have enjoyed spending hours with the man, finally breaking him through my usual brutal techniques. I’d never met a man I hadn’t broken.
“Mmm…” she whispered as she brushed her leg against mine.
She remained tightly curled around my body, her arm resting on my chest, her hand placed over my heart. I continued to be on edge, which was necessary although given I’d seen nothing else amiss, I was becoming more and more certain the assailant on the island had acted alone. Most mercenaries did.
